


Farfalline and Other Delicious Bites

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Chefs, Cooking, Crushes, Fame, Fluff, Food Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4426991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked<br/>famous actor and personal chef au with klaine please!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farfalline and Other Delicious Bites

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lurkdusoleil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkdusoleil/gifts).



Kurt never thought that he would make it so big, so fast.

He hoped for it, of course, but he never actually believed that he would become that famous so early.

Then again, he never thought that he would actually be spotted by none other than Dick van Dyke enjoying a holiday New York and stopping by the Spotlight diner just as Kurt was leading a very enthusiastic rendition of “Step In Time”.

And yet, Kurt Hummel is already famous, with whispers of Oscars for his part in the revival of “Bye Bye Birdie”, directed by Mr. van Dyke himself.

There is one major inconvenient to his new status: it’s increasingly difficult for him to go and get himself a nice pizza or a slice of cheesecake–Hell, it’s complicated to even do his grocery shopping without being harassed by some people who don’t have any notions of boundaries.

Santana, his self-appointed agent and manager, has apparently found the solution to his problem.

Can’t get out to get food?

Get food inside!

She has been looking for a suitable chef, someone that would be available to cook anything, any time, at his beck and call.

There is something in that …  _power_  that secretly thrills him–or not so secretly, but he doesn’t care.

Being able to “ring” someone and get a cake in bed? Yes, please.

And if he can afford it …

This afternoon, he’s supposed to interview the three candidates Santana has deemed good enough for him, and that’s saying something about their abilities.

Kitty seems nice, and her risotto is definitely up to Kurt’s standards, but there is something in the glint of her eyes that makes him … unsafe.

Unique’s pizza, made up from scratch while conducting the interview, impresses him, and she would have been a shoe-in if it had not been for the last candidate.

Ah,  _Blaine_.

In another setting, Kurt would have waxed poetic over all of the man’s fine assets, over his brown eyes and his dark hair, over his tanned skin and his scrumptious ass.

Definitely, yes.

But as it is, Kurt wants to write epic musicals about the delicacy he brought as a sample of his cooking abilities.

Well, his baking abilities anyway.

Kurt would eat nothing but Blaine’s decadent [mini eggnog cheesecakes](http://pixel.brit.co/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/2-Eggnog.jpg) if he could, really.

And by hiring him, he pretty much guarantees that, doesn’t he?

Santana warns him, with laughter in the back of her voice, as they drink a glass of rosé on Kurt’s terrace while Blaine goes over his new domain. “Fair warning, boss,” she starts, and Kurt snorts in his glass. “Don’t fuck where you eat.”

“Gross,” Kurt comments, and Santana nudges him with her foot.

“I’m not talking literally, you cabron,” she says, her eyes turning serious. “We don’t want a sex scandal to ruin your stardom.”

Kurt frowns at her. “I’m already out, San.”

“You’re not above a sexual harassment lawsuit if you keep drooling over Farfalline over there.”

The nickname makes sense, and Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine, a notepad in his hand as he inventories the cupboards in the kitchen.

His interview shirt’s sleeves are rolled to his elbows, and the cute [bow tie](http://we-shop.fr/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/41803_1256801.jpg) that must have inspired Santana is slightly crooked.

“I won’t,” he says softly. “I’ll just have to remember that he’s my employee.”

“You do that. Or you fire him before you fuck him.”

Kurt doesn’t even bother with a reply, returning his attention to his delicious rosé.

“Um, excuse me?”

They both turn to face Blaine, and good God does he look good in an apron–where did he find it?

“I need to do some grocery, but if you’d like that, there is everything I need to make mini pizzas for your apéritif,” he tells them and Kurt has to bite on his lips to keep the whine that builds up in his throat.

“That would be fantastic, thank you Blaine,” Santana replies instead, her nails digging in Kurt’s thigh away from Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine smiles at them and returns to the kitchen.

“ _Ow_ ,” Kurt tells Santana, swatting her hand away.

She remains silent, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass.

“Okay so maybe it’s going to be tougher than I thought,” he admit begrudgingly. “I need to find a date.”

“No, you need to get laid, but meh, semantics.”

“What about Crawford?”

Santana wrinkles her nose before sighing. “I guess he’ll do, if he can distract you from the cupcake-making cupcake you hired.”

“Stop comparing him to food, you’re  _not_  helping!”

—

Dating Adam helps, on some levels.

The British actor is extremely distracting, and he seems … besotted with Kurt, which is always a bonus in Kurt’s books.

But it’s only a temporary fix, if only because Adam getd increasingly colder towards Kurt once it’s clear that Kurt has no intention to use what leverage he does have to get Adam a part in his next project.

“You know i would be perfect for the part,” he tells Kurt one evening they’re having dinner at Kurt’s–a scrumptious salmon tartare with lime and dill with home-made wavy chips.

He’s stabbing the poor fish and Kurt doesn’t have the energy to deal with this kind of aggression in his home.

Not when he just spent two days talking with the director about filming on locations,  and especially not when Blaine is in the kitchen, right in Kurt’s line of vision, preparing a coffee chocolate mousse while shaking his criminally round butt to the rhythm of whatever plays on his little radio.

“I told you that you were more than welcome to audition,” he says before stuffing a chip in his mouth.

_Attractive move._

“You’d think that my boyfriend would spare me that part of the process,” Adam mumbles before turning bright red.

Kurt delicately puts his cutlery down on his plate.  "Is that  _why_  you are dating me?“ He asks too sweetly.

Adam must hear it, that saccharine threat in Kurt’s voice, because he freezes.

Hell, even Blaine stops moving in the kitchen.

“N-no, not at all,” Adam says, reaching for Kurt’s hand but Kurt keeps them in between his plate and the edge of the table. “I just think that if you really loved me–”

“Maybe I don’t,” Kurt snaps, and he can hear Blaine’s softly whispered “ _oh shit_ ”. “Or we don’t have the same definition of love.”

Adam opens and closes his mouth, and Kurt returns his attention to his tartare–would be a shame to let it go to waste because his attempt at having a relationship goes down the drain.

“Is it because of  _him_?”

Kurt looks up, and Adam is pointing his thumb in Blaine’s direction–luckily, Kurt’s chef is not looking towards them at all, as he puts the bowls filled with fresh mousse in the fridge.

 _Good God_  he’s bending over in the fridge.

“Uh?”

Adam stands up, his chair scraping against the floor. “This is it, isn’t it?” Adam shouts. “You’ve been fucking your little chef behind my back!”

Kurt delicately wipes his lips and stands up too. “Don’t shout at me,” he says slowly, coldly, not quite threateningly but it’s getting there.

He has learned with Santana, after all.

“And don’t talk about Blaine like he’s not here,” he adds before crossing his arms. “I did not cheat on you, Adam, but if you think that, I really think it’s time for you to go.”

“Really?”

“Really. And don’t forget,” Kurt calls as Adam storms out, “you signed a confidentiality agreement!”

The door slams behind Adam and Kurt sits back, returning his attention to his plate.

Kurt is a firm believer in eating his emotions, and Blaine’s dishes really do the trick.

“Are–are you okay?”

Blaine’s voice is soft and shy, floating from the kitchen, and Kurt looks up.

Blaine is leaning on his forearms on the counter, his eyes a soft brown in the dimmed light above his head.

He looks  _delicious_.

“I’m good,” Kurt says, “I was never that committed to the relationship anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah–no real story here.”

Blaine shrugs before straightening up to turn towards the fridge. “At least you have chocolate to comfort yourself with.”

“Yay,” Kurt deadpans before laughing. “You’re right, there’s that.”

And then, against his best judgment, against Santana’s voice in his head, he continues. “Do you want to share my dessert?”

Blaine opens wide eyes, the bowls making a dull clinging sound as Blaine nearly drops them. “W-what?”

“You made two of those,” Kurt tells him–in for an inch, in for a fucking marathon–, “it would be a waste to throw one just because I’m dateless.”

Blaine flushes and Kurt takes a private delight in watching him look up to the ceiling to regain his composure.

“You’re asking me to be your …  _backup_  date?” Blaine asks, and it’s Kurt’s turn to be flustered.

“Sorta,” he mumbles, and Santana’s voice in his head screeches how stupid this is.

And then Blaine brings the chocolate mousses to the table and even that voice gets quiet.

Kurt takes a large spoonful of it instead of watching the way Blaine takes his apron off and sits down so elegantly.

The kick is immediate. “You–you put alcohol in it?” he asks, already taking another spoonful–smaller this time–and giving it kitten licks.

“Kahlua,” Blaine says, the foreign word rolling off his tongue easily.

_Damn that’s hot._

Kurt lets the mousse lose its density on his tongue, observing the way Blaine takes small amount of it in his own spoon, the way the metal digs in his plump lower lip–

_Oh dear Lord have mercy._

“It’s delicious,” he says, throat getting dry, and Kurt blindly reaches for his glass.

Except that maybe wine is not a good idea to help him keep his focus and his hands away from Blaine.

“I’m glad you enjoy the food I make,” Blaine replies, looking at Kurt from under his eyelashes.

“Blaine?”

“Hm?”

“I think–,” Kurt starts and Blaine puts his spoon down, focusing entirely on him. “I think I need to fire you.”

Blaine’s eyes widen and his lips part. “I … didn’t see that one coming. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, absolutely not,” Kurt says, and this time around, he’s the one reaching for the man across the table’s hand.

Blaine is more generous than he was with Adam, and he lets Kurt cover his hand with his own.

“It’s just …,” Kurt looks for his words, and Blaine’s warmth helps him finding them. “Adam was kinda right.”

“Last time I checked we didn’t fuck.”

Blaine’s snark is dry and humorous.

More points in his favor.

“No, we didn’t,” Kurt confirms, “but …”

“But?”

“But the desire to do so is very real.”

Blaine blinks a couple of times. “ _Oh_.”

“And I don’t want to even mention it or do something about it while you’re my employee.”

“Makes sense, makes sense.”

Kurt licks his lips, trying to control his nerves. “So, is this … is this the end of our professional relationship?”

Blaine keeps a straight face, tilting his head to the side as he looks at Kurt, seemingly considering it.

And then he turns his hand to intertwine their fingers. “As long as I can still cook for you–for us?”

Kurt practically leaps across the table to sit down in Blaine’s lap, but it’s Blaine who cups the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss.

A kiss that tastes of Kahlua and chocolate and sparkles.

—

Nothing else happens that night, and Kurt waits for Blaine to leave–with another kiss on his doorstep–to make three phonecalls.

One to Santana, who cackles that Brittany owes her twenty bucks.

One to Unique, who is delighted to get a second chance at the job.

One to Blaine, to “officially” ask him on a date.

Kurt doesn’t know why he’s surprised when Blaine arrives for their date with a Tupperware filled with cookies.

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, because the blush on Blaine’s cheeks when he pulls out a bouquet of roses from behind his back makes his brain melt.

—

The first time Blaine comes to spend the night, they cook together.

Well, Blaine cooks, and Kurt makes suggestive moves with the ingredients.

Not his fault that Blaine decided to make a zucchini lasagna.

Definitely his fault if the lasagnas burn in the oven, because they’re making out against the counter and lost track of time.

Because Kurt smeared some of the mascarpone and truffle mix on Blaine’s nose, and one lick lead to another and …

**Dot dot dot.**


End file.
